More Than A Brotherly Love
by ImpassionedWriter
Summary: This is a Wincest. I tried to keep it short, but entertaining ;) It involves Dean and Sam being stuck in a hotel room, reliving the drunken events of the previous night. Their love has crossed from brotherly love to more... What will become of it? One-shot Preeetty sure it's a 'T?


Well, I just spent the entire night writing my first GuyXGuy story.  
I never actually thought I would write a Wincest story, much less that it would be my first completed one! But, thanks to my insane sense of dedication and the Korean Comedy "Flower Boy Next Door", I just pulled an all nighter *-* That's right! I haven't been to sleep yet; just so I could finish this for you guys!  
It's my first guy on guy story and I may not be very good at it. But please leave a review and let me know what you think :3  
Love you all forever!

* * *

Sam blinked hard against the white sunlight that threatened to blind him. He groaned and pressed his face into the bed. Somewhere in the room a clock was ticking away the seconds, never slowing, never stopping, but somehow fading away from perception when darkness slipped back over his mind. Despite the overwhelming urge to return to the quiet safeties of unconciousness, Sam could feel the pleasant emptiness receding. He gave up on trying to return to sleep and mentally shook himself.

It was then that he noticed the unfamiliar weight of a long bare arm around his waist, pinning him down. His breathing quickened when certain realizations came to him.  
There was a fog blanketing his mind that usually came from him having gotten drunk the night before.  
The arm laying over him deffinately belonged to a man. And there was something familiar about the form beside him.

A dreading feeling pulled at Sam's stomach. Even before he looked, he was afraid he knew exactly who it was that he lay next to. He slowly lifted his head up and turned it to stare at the other man. To Sam's suprise, the man's face was just inches away from his own. And, to his immense horror, he recognized it. The peaceful angel face, hiding a dark past, the strong stubbled jawline, the scar you could find behind his ear if you knew to look.

It was his brother, Dean, who lay sprawled out in his bed.

Sam bolted upright and braced himself up with his hands to stop the room from swaying. Dean breathed heavily but showed no signs of waking. Sam tried hard to swallow the painful lump in his throat. What had gone on last night? It was all a blur as far as he was concerned.

The men were a tangle of arms and legs, bare, covered only by a single sheet. Blankets and pillows were strewn across the room, as were most of the clothes they had been wearing the day earlier.

Sam grunted as he seperated himself from Dean and stood, his head pounding. He stumbled into the bathroom to shower. And as the hot water ran over his skin, he had time to think. To consider what had happened; what this meant.

Just because he had fallen asleep in the same bed as Dean meant nothing! And the fact that they were both naked didn't mean anything either. There were dozens of explainations.  
It had been too hot.  
In an episode of drunken madness, they had stripped and fallen asleep together without realizing it. In a way that was perfectly innocent!  
They had both hooked up with women from the bar, who took off this morning before Sam awoke.  
They had had a threesome.

Okay, that one was kind of semi-disturbing...  
Nope. Just plain disturbing.

Sam turned the water off and toweled, dressing quickly and returning to the other room. Dean still lay passed out on the bed. Sam glanced at the clock and wondered if Dean was going to sleep the entire day away. What could he have possibly done that tired him out like this?  
_...No. Bad thoughts. Don't go there, Mind. No, no ,no..._ Sam cursed himself under his breath. He had to find something to distract him until Dean returned to the land of the living.

Food! He could go out and get breakfast!

Sam grabbed his jacket and thrust his arms into the sleeves, already heading to the door. He stepped into the hallway and almost tripped over a pile of cloth in the floor. He bent down to investigate and found himself holding up the very shirt Dean had been wearing last night when they left for the bar.

* * *

_Dean pressed Sam harder against the wall and kissed him. Their tongues entwined in violent fit of passion. Sam surrendered dominance to Dean, but kept a tight grip on his hair, positioning his head at the_

_angle he wanted. Dean complied and deepened the kiss._

_They both lost touch with reality in the midst of the fire that consumed them._

_Sam released his hold on Dean to run his hands up the back of Dean's shirt. He traced his fingernails down the rippling muscles, causing older man to voice his pleasure in the form of a growl._

_Sam followed Dean when he pulled away, disappointed at the loss of contact. His pout disappeared when he realized that Dean only broke the kiss to pull his shirt over his head and throw it to the ground._

_Then their bodies met again, and any shred of restraint left was gone._

* * *

Sam fell back against the doorframe, his memory fading into a blur of heat and skin.

_What the hell?_ That... That was impossible. Something like that couldn't possibly have happened between him and his brother. He refused to believe it. But the knot in his stomach declared that he did.

Sam hurriedly picked up the shirt and Dean's leather jacket which had also been tossed aside; it was a wonder no one had taken them. Maybe they had been scared off by the unrestrained display that took place only hours before.

Nearly half an hour later, when Sam returned to their hotel room, clutching a warm take-out bag, he had to battle his overwhelming fear of opening the door. The fear that Dean was awake. How would he react to seeing Sam? Did he remember any of the things that had happened between them? Sam took a moment to collect himself and, putting on a calm face, entered the room cautiously.

Dean looked up from his seat on the edge of the bed, where he was pulling on his shirt. He brightened when he saw Sam. "Hey, I wondered where you were."

Sam strode over to the table and put the bag down. Heat rushed to his cheeks and he turned his back to hide his face.

Dean's voice spoke up from the bed, as Sam took the styrofoam containers out and placed them on the table. Each one warmed his hand, which was pleasant. But he couldn't keep his thoughts from turning to his flashback earlier.

"Man, this place is a wreck," Dean said, "She must have been an animal. Gave me some pretty interesting marks."

Sam froze. Dean... didn't know? He didn't remember?

Sam silently wondered how he would react if he knew that the marks were made by Sam himself.

Dean appeared beside him suddenly, grabbing for one of the containers. "Hey, why so quiet? Tearing yourself to pieces over not getting a chick as hot as mine?"

Sam looked at him in confusion. Why would he...? Dean smirked and gestured to Sam's neck. "I'm not the only one sporting battle scars."

Sam practically fled to the bathroom. He pulled down the neckline of his shirt and was startled to see three visible hickeys. They stood out clearly against his skin. He could feel his body heating up just to look at them. If it had been anybody but his brother he would've given almost anything to know what went on. By the looks of it, it had been incredible.  
But there was no time for that now.  
Or ever!

Sam shook his head, banishing those thoughts, and pulled his collar up to hide the love marks from view. He knew that it would slide down again but for now he was content just to hide them from himself. If he didn't see them, it was possible to believe they weren't there. Was that stupid? Something doesn't go away just because you close your eyes to it.

But... he couldn't stand to face this now. What it meant. What it _could_ mean. What it would change...  
It would change everything.

Sam emerged from the bathroom, shaky and pale, but keeping his expression carefully blank. Dean was busy at the table, shoving another enormous bite of food in his mouth. He looked up at Sam's return and his eyebrows knit. "Dude, seriously. Are you feeling all right?" He said. His mouthful of food made him hard to understand, but Sam knew instinctively what he said. He acted like he didn't. "What?"

Dean kept chewing animatedly. Sam watched him in silence. Why on earth had they hooked up last night?

No.  
No.  
He would not think...  
_He did not hook up with his brother!_

The denial slipped over his body like a calming mask. He laughed lightly and reached for his own meal, "You know I can't understand you with your mouth full."

"You've always understood me before." Was the muffled reply. Sam rolled his eyes and smiled.

They finished their breakfast in silence. It wasn't the awkward kind, but there was something... off about it. Something different. You could practically feel all the secrets in the air.

Sam ignored this and focused intently on what was in front of him. Which, thankfully, was not Dean. His brother's form beside him radiated heat. A heat that Sam was unnervingly aware of. If he had been face to face with the other hunter... who knows what would happen.

When both men were done eating and had packed their things up, making up the bed and recovering a stray shoe from beneath it, they headed out the door. The people they passed regarded them with no more recognition than when they had checked in. Sam was relieved that none of them had seemed to notice the commotion in the hall last night.

They checked themselves out and stepped outside, into the drizzling rain. The air was cold and chilled Sam through his clothes. He repressed a shiver and followed Dean in the foggy haze. All of a sudden Dean stopped. His head swiveled from side to side. He spun around in a haphazard circle.  
Then he started cussing.

"WHERE THE HELL IS MY CAR?! SON OF A BITCH! WHERE'S MY CAR?!"

He threw out a stream of swear words that made Sam cringe.

Sam scanned the parking lot and saw that the car was indeed missing. Dean whirled around to face him, fixing him with a venomous glare. "What the hell happened to my goddamn car?!" Sam frowned and shook his head, shrugging. No words came to his lips. What could he even say to that?

Dean immediately wanted to hit the streets and see if they could find it, but Sam convinced him that that was ridiculous. Dean stormed back inside, Sam on his heels, and checked them back in. The clerk was a short balding man. He raised an eyebrow at their return. Dean was too fired up to give an explaination and pursed his lips, waiting impatiently. You could see him buzzing with restless energy. Several people gave him wary looks and made certain to keep their distance.

The only person who didn't seem to be intimidated by his fierce glare was Sam. He was too busy going over their departure last night. Looking for any suspicious characters, scrutinizing every detail. He remembered everything clearly up until they were at the bar, drinking. Then it was just a blank leading to that scene in the hall, which also ended in darkness.

A supernatural explaination was unlikely since they had only found one job here; a man who had killed a high school student. The girl had been recently studying the occult. Turns out she created a secret group made up of fellow students. The man attacked the others, but Sam and Dean had been there to stop him. Apparently, he had been possessed by the spirit of a boy the group had killed as a sacrifice.

They had to waste him. Talk about a depressing case. But then, their whole job was depressing most of the time.

And sometime between driving to the bar and waking up this morning, the impala had vanished. Stolen or abandoned...  
But Sam couldn't imagine Dean ever being drunk enough to leave his 'baby' anywhere alone.  
Still... he had been kind of distracted last night. Maybe they should call the cops...

No.

That idea was rejected before it even became a full thought. One look at that arsenaul in the trunk, and they wouldn't see daylight for the rest of their lives. There had been too many scrapes with the police already.

...If Sam didn't start remembering what happened last night, how were they going to find the car?

He didn't have to worry. Dean already had a plan. "Listen, all we have to do is get a taxi or rent a car or something, and then we drive around looking for her." Dean told all of this to Sam firmly, as if he was trying subconciously to make Sam agree with him; like if he said it force it would make more sense.

"You... want to drive around town until we find the impala?" Sam's slow doubtful voice made it sound like a stupid plan.

Dean pushed back the rage boiling up inside of him and managed to hiss, "What else are we supposed to do?" Sam chewed his lip thoughtfully. Dean ran a hand through his hair and paced the room, quickly, nervously, having no other way to channel his anger.

"Well," Sam finally said, "If I can just remember how we got home, where we- you parked her..." Dean stopped pacing and looked at Sam like he was crazy. "Then we can go pick her up."

"And what do we do in the meantime, Sammy? Just sit here with our thumbs up our asses? What if somebody stole her and is two states away right now? What if she is still in town and some gang bangers are tearing her apart, piece by piece?! What the hell am I supposed to do then?!" He seethed, breathing hard. His jaw was clenched in frustration.

"Dean, this isn'-."

Dean cut Sam off by stalking to the bathroom. He slammed the door behind him, but didn't bother to lock it, he knew Sam wouldn't follow. Then he braced himself against the sink, panting. Why was this happening? Hadn't he already suffered enough for whatever mistakes made him deserve this?  
When Sam had suggested trying to recall the previous night, Dean had almost lost it. True, he was glad that Sam didn't seem to remember any of it.  
But what if it came back to him?

It was like that when you couldn't remember anything; and then it all came back in a sickening rush of images and words that meant nothing at the time. Words that were spoken that had as much weight as air. Words that were caused by the heady confusion of alchohol. Words like the ones his brother had spoken to him last night.

Most of that night had been a blur. He remembered going to the bar, celebrating their success with a drink, before shipping out to the next case that came their way. But somewhere in that alchoholic daze his brother had turned to him with bright innocent eyes and said something. Something that made his heart beat faster and his pulse quicken. The rest was a series of blurry images.

One very detailed scene outside the bar that had come to him while he and Sam were packing that morning; luckily Sam didn't seem to notice. He could barely believe that what he was remembering was real.  
After those remarks when Sam had returned with their breakfast, when he had pointed out the hickeys on Sam's neck and he had run to the bathroom, Dean had been confused. Then he remembered that scene and he almost died.

Was that why Sam had freaked out? Did he know what had happened?  
Thankfully, though, he didn't give any indication that he did.

What would Dean do? What _could_ he do? Nothing either of them did last night meant anything. They were drunk. Crazy shit shit happens when you're drunk. It didn't mean a thing.  
...So why was some small part of Dean hoping it did?

...

Sam tapped lightly at the door, wondering what Dean was doing in there for so long. Had he gotten sick?

He certainly did love his car...  
Maybe Sam should just go along with the ridiculous idea of searching around town for the car. I mean, it had to be somewhere, right? They could probably find it. And if they investigated the roads leading to and from the bar they had been to, they would probably find it in no time.

...Why was he so against it?

He wanted to find the impala, if only for Dean's sake; there was no telling what he might do. But, for some reason, he also wanted to just stay here. In this town. In this hotel. In this room. ...Not true.  
He wanted to stay in the hallway. Just go stand there, leaning against the wall he had been backed up against last night.  
_Why?_  
He didn't want to remember it. He didn't like that it happened. But all he wanted to do was be in the same place he had been standing last night, on the recieving end of Dean's feverish kisses.  
No. Dean had nothing to do with it. It was just a nice hallway.  
Yes. A nice, empty hallway.

Empty...

* * *

_Completely empty._

_Except for Sam, and Dean, and the fires raging inside them._

_"Dean. Deean..." The short gasps made Dean's lust spiral higher than ever before. He held Sam tightly outside the bar and kissed him, savouring his taste. _  
_He breathed in deeply. He had to stop this. Before it got out of hand._

_"Sam," He said, pushing himself away from his brother, "We can't do this."_

_"Dean, please," The urging voice was enough to break your heart. "I want this. I really want this. Please do it for me."_

_Dean swallowed hard and looked at his brother, "You're just drunk, Sam."_

_Intoxication kept his eyes half closed, but he met Dean's stare. The attraction between them sparked and Sam leaned in close, whispering, "Please..." Once more before hungrily covering his mouth with his own. Dean could taste the burn of alchohol, which should have reminded him to stop, but the ground disappeared from beneath his feet and he was falling._  
_Falling deeper and deeper into the kiss._

* * *

Sam's head jerked up when Dean abruptly opened the bathroom door. He didn't say a word to Sam and, instead, walked quickly across the room and out into the hallway. Sam blinked. Then he followed Dean. They made their way down the hall, through the front doors, and out into the rain.

Dean shoved his hands in his pockets and lifted his shoulders against the rain. Sam fell into step beside him, puzzled. What was Dean doing?

"What in the world are you doing?" Sam voiced his curiousity.

Dean walked down the sidewalk and said something inder his breath.

"What?" Sam peered at him, wondering if Dean had actually lost his mind.

"I said, I'm going to go find my damn car."

"Well, it's raining."

"So?"

"So... don't you think it would be smarter to rent a car? Or at least grab an umbrella?"

"Come on, Sammy, a little rain never hurt anybody." Dean shot Sam his trademark smirk, and for a second everything was the way it used to be.

Then Dean returned to staring bitterly at the sidewalk. Sam kept pace with him easilly, glancing over every now and then to study Dean's face. His expression was one of muted anger and there were shadows in his eyes that Sam had never seen there before.

"C'mon, Dean," He said casually, "Let's just turn around and get an umbrella. We're going to be soaking wet and th-"

Dean whipped around and practically shouted, "Stop talking!"

Sam took a step back and stopped. He stared, open mouthed, at Dean. "What... What's wrong with you?"

Dean looked repentant, but still frustrated, "I'm sorry, man, it's just... I'm sick of being here. I just want to find my baby and get the hell out of here."

Sam's brow creased with concern. "You were loving it here this morning. Did something happen?"

Dean looked like he was about to answer, but instead he gave up and shrugged.

They stood in the rain not looking at each other, until Sam cleared his throat and suggested they go back. Dean didn't move. He felt like he was rooted to the ground.

"Come on, Dean. We're soaked. Let's at least go change and rent a car. We'll never get anywhere on foot."

"Well, we sure won't if we just stand here." Dean forced himself to walk again, but he was still headed away from the hotel.

Sam hurried to catch up to him. He sighed. What was going on with his brother? Sure, it was the impala they were looking for... but this seemed like more than that. The suspicion fell like a weight, tugging at Sam's heart. _Did Dean know? Had he remembered what they had done?_ He kept his breathing steady while he watched Dean from the corner of his eye. Trees danced in the worsening downpour. Puddles grew in road and on the sidewalk in front of them. The streets were empty except for those two.

They continued in this way; Dean continuously slowing, until he finally stopped. Sam realized he was alone and looked back. Dean was still staring at the ground. Then he lifted his face to the sky and let the rain run down over him. Sam felt a smile tease around his features. Dean looked so funny doing that.

And so... defeated.

He fixed Sam with a heavy gaze and heaved a sigh. His eyes glistened, but it could have just been the rain. Sam hoped it was just the rain.

"Sam..." Dean started. He trailed off and seemed to lose his voice. Sam sauntered back carefully, worried about what was happening. A bitter feeling welled up and left him with a feeling of dread. Dean licked his lips slowly, collecting himself. Then he spoke, "Do you remember what happened last night?" His voice was weaker than he wanted it to be.

Sam's mouth went dry. Was he asking if he knew or _asking if he knew_? He decided to err on the side of caution. "Not really."

Dean nodded. "Oh..."

"Why?"

"I- I just wondered. It's all a blur for me." Relief washed over Sam. "Me, too." He said.

He looked around and noted that it had gotten visibly darker since they had come out. "Let's head back now, Dean." This time he started forward. But when he passed Dean, a hand closed around his arm, holding him in place. He looked at Dean in suprise. The hunter's eyes were narrowed; the shadows were lighter, but still there.

"You _do _know." Was all he said. Then he turned and went on toward the hotel.

Sam stayed planted where he was.

_Dean knew._

...

When they made it back to the hotel, they entered in silence and went to their room; the same one they had booked earlier.

Dean's footsteps were heavy and he immediately fell back onto the bed in the farthest corner.

Sam hesitated before he said, "You- Do you want to go get a car now?"

"No. I'm tired. Let's just start looking again tomorrow." It didn't matter that he was dripping wet. He could feel the dampness seeping into the blankets. But, suddenly, he felt drained. He couldn't even stand up right now.  
And he didn't want to lay down in _that_ bed. He couldn't even look at that bed. Not right now. Not when he didn't have the energy to fight back all the filthy thoughts that entered his head. The insidious fantasies that ate away at his restraint.

Across the room, Sam stood, unsure of what he should do. Pass the time on his laptop?  
Oh, wait... he'd left that in the impala. And now he was trapped in this room with nothing to occupy his time.  
Wow, they were just lost without that car.

Not to mention... _Dean knew_. He knew everything. Well, at least he had to know _something_.

Sam decided to sit at the table.  
He would... think. Yes, that's it. He would think. It was a rainy day, the room was silent, and he had all the time in the world to reflect on his thoughts. Come to think of it, maybe that wasn't such a good idea.

Seated at the table, he propped his head up in his hands and stared absently at a hole in the wall. With nothing to distract him, his mind dredged up an image from the night before.  
He was startled and blinked rapidly, trying to banish it from his sight. It was... disturbing.

Apparently their night had not only been exciting, but also very physically demanding.  
And exotic.

_Very_...

* * *

_"Ohh, Deean."_

_Dean pinned down the younger man's arms and continued to lavish his delicate attention onto Sam's bared throat. He ground their hips together in a steady rhythym._

_Sam gazed up at him and Dean melted at the emotion he saw there. His lips crashed down onto Sam's, tongue slipping in once they met. Dean's touches grew noticeably rougher and he deepened the kiss, probing Sam's mouth with his hot tongue. He wanted to taste every inch of him. He wanted to slip into the other man's body and make him feel things he'd never felt before. He wanted to fill him in every possible way._

_He wanted _him.

_More than he'd ever wanted anything in his entire life._

* * *

Dean forced himself to sit up. He was losing control of his own body. When had he ever decided to fall alseep? And why did that dream seem more like a memory than anything else?  
Oh, yes, that's right. Because it was.

He could remember almost everything now. Except where he had left the impala. Actually, the only thing he _did _remember was what he had wanted to forget. But his attempt to escape led exactly where he was running from.

He was turned on now. His heart was beating faster than normal. And he was thinking about Sam in an innapropriate way. A sexual way. And there was nothing right about that.

...

Sam was busy trying to calm himself down and keep the images of them from coming out of the darkness hanging over those actions. He had been secretly longing all day to know everything. And now that it

was all coming to him, he wished it would all go back. Stay back. And stop reminding him of how it felt to be with Dean.

Maybe... maybe it wasn't a bad thing. Love is love, right? Wait, who said this was love?

_Sex_ is _sex_.

And sex for them... usually came with no strings attached. A new realization came to him. Technically, he could do anything right now. In this moment, he... _could_ do anything, couldn't he? Anything he wanted. Maybe he wouldn't get the desired reaction... Plus, he didn't have the excuse of being drunk this time. There would be consequences.  
But... with all the losses he and his brother had suffered, they couldn't lose each other, too.

No. He wouldn't do anything. He _could_... but he wouldn't.  
Providing that self control was still an option. At the moment his was falling away, bit by bit. Each of these images drove him closer to the edge of desperation. Each memory held heated caresses and heartfelt words. Airy sighs and deep moans.

Sam abruptly stood up and started pacing the room. If he didn't channel his restless energy into something innocent, he would end up doing something he would regret. He didn't know it, but this was the way Dean had felt earlier.

There was something about this room. The place where those forbidden actions had taken place. The place where their feelings for each other broke free and were acted upon. The place where everything changed.  
Everything changed.  
But nothing had. _Not yet._

Sam looked over at Dean, who, at some point, had sat up in the bed. Dean felt Sam's eyes on him and glanced over at his feet. His eyes slid slowly up the tall frame and settled on the sweet face. The puppy dog eyes. Those deep pools of sadness and love.

"Dean..." Sam started, coming over to the bed.

Dean stood and met him halfway, in the middle of the room, to avoid the temptation that came with having Sam so close at hand.

"We- We need to talk."

Dean turned is eyes toward the ceiling and shut them tightly. "I hate that phrase." He said.

"Um, There are things we should talk about?" Sam offered, trying to get this conversation started in a good way.

When Dean opened his eyes again he looked tired. "I'm sorry." He said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Wh-What?" Sam felt that same sinking feeling again.

"You were drunk. Hell, I was drunk. We were both completely wasted. But, I let things get out of control and... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Dean's eyes filled and he hastily wiped away the tears that spilled over, trying to laugh it off.

Sam hated seeing his brother trying to act strong then they both knew the pain he felt inside. He was sorry he had brought it up. But it was already too late to turn back. And, if he could salvage this, things would be infinitely better between them soon.

Dean tensed when Sam placed a hand on his shoulder in sympathy. There were two things he could do. Allow Sam to _pity_ him and think he was weak. Or...  
In the typical Dean fashion, he ducked his shoulder from the touch and moved out of reach.

"Dean, it's not your fault. It wasn't anybody's fault. Except maybe mine."

Dean's brow furrowed. "It wasn't your fault, Sammy. I'm the one who's supposed to take of you." _Which doesn't include shoving my tongue down your throat._ He thought bitterly.  
Why was he so pissed off about this?  
They had been drunk. Things had escalated too quickly for either of them to react properly. It was no one's fault. He felt nothing more for Sam than brotherly love. _Nothing more._

Dean was so caught up in his own thoughts that he was startled by Sam appearing directly in front of him, fixing him with a steady gaze. "It isn't your fault. Do you think I would done it if I hadn't wanted to? I... I wanted to." Okay, this wasn't exactly the direction he had expected to go in. But he felt the words coming out of his mouth and there was nothing he could do to stop them. "I still want to." He said, trying to guage Dean's reaction.

Dean's heart soared, against his will, but he dismissed Sam's confession as... well... insanity. Obviously he had been under a lot of stress lately. This was him finally cracking under the strain. "Sam..."

Sam cut him off quickly, "I'm not drunk this time. I know exactly what I'm saying. I'm not ashamed of what happened last night."

Dean couldn't help himself. All of a sudden, the words Sam had spoken in the bar came into his mind.

_"Dean, I love you. I love you so so much. I would would give anything for you; I would die for you. I love you."_

_I love you._

"I love you."

Dean lost control. The words he had wanted to hear. The words he had dreamed about hearing... Sam had just said them.

Dean pulled Sam into a hard kiss. Their lips slid against each other, pumping, fanning a fire that was already burning.

When they parted, Sam sucked in a breath. Dean's reaction was shocking. Not at all what he imagined, but much more than he had hoped. "Dean..." He said, resisting another kiss.

"C'mon, Sam. You're sending me mixed signals." Dean's voice was low and husky. He had already fallen over the edge. And he was dragging Sam down with him.

It only took one touch to confirm what he already suspected. The heat from their desire had taken over, chasing away all traces of common sense.

Dean licked his lips. Sam's eyes travled to his toungue, tracking the movement predatorily. Then he wrapped his arms around Dean's waist and kissed him, his tongue darting out to trace along Dean's lower lip. The older hunter was intrigued with the idea of Sam being in charge, but he couldn't keep himself from taking control again. He cupped Sam's jaw, turning his face at an angle, and deepening the kiss. Their mouths worked together, moving against each other.

Dean backed Sam up to the bed- the same one they had slept in earlier- and they fell into it, all tongues, and flesh, and heat. Dean wasted no time in pulling Sam's shirt over his head and set about making a series of love marks to replace the already fading three from before.

Then he ran his hand down Sam's chest as he bit and sucked, causing Sam's body to rise in arousal. Sam relished the kisses Dean left along his neck, making his way to the more sensitive areas. A sharp intake of breath reached Dean's ears when he began to stroke one of Sam's nipples. He quickly took the other in his mouth, making Sam moan loudly.  
Hopefully the neighbors wouldn't hear anything. But even if they did, who cared? This was about Sam and Dean. And everything they meant to each other.

Sam's body rose and fell on the bed like waves beneath Dean's frame. More clothes came off and the movements grew rougher, more force behind them, as the desire mounted.

First Sam, then Dean, tumbled into the white hot grip of release.

They lay panting, afterwards, trying to recover their senses. Sam barely had time to catch his breath before Dean was on top of him again, pulling him tighter against his body. He raked his teeth across Sam's bottom lip before taking his mouth in another kiss. His skin tingled with electricity. Sam pushed him farther than he had ever been. Every sound he made drove Dean crazy.

As Sam was once again consumed in the intoxicating high of his orgasm, the events of their first night together came bursting out of its foggy cloud. "_Deeeeaaan_!" He cried out.

Dean grinned and kissed him gently, slowly, as the heavenly glow receded from behind his eyes.

When he found his voice again, Dean was kissing his way back down Sam's chest. "Dean." Sam breathed heavily.

"Mm?" Dean answered without breaking the flow of kisses. The hum of Dean's warm breath against his skin made Sam almost forget what he had to say. His eyes momentarily rolled back in his head and he arched his back.

Dean clearly took this as a good sign and things went to the next level, when he slid lower down the bed to do wicked things with his mouth.

"Ah! Dean... _Ohh._.. I re- I remembered where the- Ah!-the impala is... parked."

Dean didn't even raise his head. "Where?" Was all he said before continuing his delicate attention.

"Sh-...'s... around th... uh... Ahh!- corner from... the bar... _Ohh_! Ri-ght where... yooouuu... _Ahhhh_... parked her."

Dean didn't stop. They could go get the car later. Right now, his love was entirely focused on Sam. Right now... he never wanted to leave this room.

* * *

Things had changed.

Things hadn't changed.

Like Sam had suspected, the fact that they felt more towards each other than brotherly love _did_ change a few things.  
For instance, now they were even more protective of each other than before.  
They had sex in every hotel room, every chance they got.  
Dean had even stopped sleeping his way through every town. He had eyes for only Sam.

Things that didn't change: They kept solving hunts; taking some time off now and then to relax and do whatever they wanted to do. They even went traveling on occason, to see the sights.  
They decided to keep it between the two of them, so they acted the same as they always had.  
The brotherly banter never stopped, though it did pick up a few new innuendos.

They were happy.

Despite the crappy job, and the fate of the world always hanging in the balance... They were in love. And happier together than they had ever been.

* * *

Well, that was my first ever guy pairing :D I hope you liked it. If you want, I can write a chapter detailing what happened while they were drunk, how they lost the impala, some of what happens after this. Only if you want me to ;P Anywho, A special thank-you goes to out SnarkyMuch2, thecouchcarrot, and Miss Impossible. You guys introduced me to the incredible world of hot man love and gave me the confidence to write the love scenes in here. Thank you so much! And, Miss Impossible, you are incredible! I can't believe how wonderful you are! Thank you so infinitely much for absolutely everything. :) *Anyone reading this should head over to her page and read everything she writes! She i G! Her stories are breathtakingly and make me fangirl every time!

~Thank you all!


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